


Rosenkreuz Staff Christmas Party

by GuiltyRed



Series: Crack Serial based on Cross of Changes Arc [1]
Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Alcohol, Complete, Crack, Kissing, Multi, Strip-tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 7,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyRed/pseuds/GuiltyRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The characters from Whom Gods Destroy, the Christmas holiday, honored guests, and a party equal a recipe for disaster. Or in this case, a crack-filled evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a little something special for the holidays. Inspired by some comments by lady_ezri and several other ne'er-do-wells (you know who you are), I would like to present, for your entertainment, the Rosenkreuz Staff Christmas Party.
> 
> Follow along as we count the days to Christmas Eve, with one mayhem-filled drabble per wintry day to warm your hearts and make you spray hot chocolate all over your monitors.
> 
> Here be crack. Ye have been warned.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly!”

  
The off-key voice echoed in the low-ceilinged room. “For the love of God, man, tune that thing!” Garrick snarled, trying to untangle yet another mobius-like string of lights.

Konrad sighed and gave up on keeping the buffet table stocked. He made his way toward the source of the noise. “Shelley, give me the bottle.”

“No, ‘s mine!” Shelton Grant slurred, holding the bottle of rum high out of reach.

“You could at least share,” Konrad muttered, rubbing at his temple. “I don’t know why I agreed to this. Do you know why? Because I don’t, I really don’t!”

“Because _you_ want to impress the Esset royalty!” Shelley giggled, offering his friend the booze. “You don’t have to be a reindeer to have a brown n–”

Konnor drowned out the comment with a long swig of alcohol. Glancing around the conference room, he took in the barely-contained chaos and, but for his station, he would have wept.

The party was in less than an hour.

Mendez had bogarted the cookies. All the cookies. True to his telepathic nature, he’d gone on bit of a bender and now had the munchies. Konnor had resorted to setting out a half-eaten package of Oreos, but those were long gone now.

With a soft “pop” the lights went out. Again. Colorful cursing could be heard from where Garrick had plugged in one strand too many.

A drunken Shelley chirped, “Find the mistletoe, everybody!”

Konnor took another drink. Rum wasn’t his preferred beverage, but right now he was starting to get mighty friendly with the stuff. Before they could fix the fuse and get the lights back on, he wandered out of Shelley’s reach.

Let the little sot try and reclaim the damn rum! He’d fight him for it, two falls out of three.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

  
Konrad surveyed the conference room and groaned. Garrick had gone to find more extension cords, Mendez was getting high in the bathroom again, and Shelton Grant had found a stash of Bing Crosby Christmas records.

In the corner by the door stood the tree, ten feet tall and totally bare, its rich green needles wafting defiantly. Beside it lay the mess of lights and several boxes of ornaments. Until Garrick got the light problem sorted out, they were pretty much stuck – you really can’t put the ornaments on before the lights, everyone knows that.

He wandered to the window and looked out on the courtyard. Crisp new-fallen snow covered the concrete with a lovely blanket of white, effectively camouflaging the layer of treacherous ice below. Even as he watched, two students hit a slick spot and did an impromptu Olympics routine across the yard, flailing with high precision all the way to the wall.

Something fuzzy and vaguely heavy landed on his head. He glanced up through his bangs and sighed. “Shelley…”

“It’s your party, you get to wear the antlers!”

Konrad slowly reached up and removed the hat. Shiny ornaments dangled from the felt reindeer horns. All in all, the tacky thing spanned nearly half a meter. “I’m not wearing this.”

“But it’s a tradition!” Shelley wailed. “He who throweth the party, weareth the horns!”

“I am a ranking General of Esset! I am not wearing your stupid horns!”

“Oh, come off it, Konn. Lighten up,” Mendez suggested, stumbling back from the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. “It’s just a hat.”

“I get my hair done at an exclusive men’s salon in Berlin! I do not wear hats!” Konnor handed Mendez the fuzzy monstrosity and stormed off.

He barely heard Shelley’s comment: “Well, bugger! If he won’t wear a hat, who will we get to play Santa?”


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

  
“No!”

“Come on, it’s fun!”

“Shelley, I said no and I meant it! Get away from me!” Konnor dashed across the room, Shelton Grant in hot pursuit. The jingling of bells filled the air.

“You said no hats! This is not a hat, it’s a necklace!” Shelley lunged the last few feet and dropped the noisy silver monstrosity over Konnor’s head.

The sleigh bells landed askew, draping across the pale blond hair like a halo.

A frantic struggle ensued as Konnor tried to eject the artifact while Shelley tried to wrap it around his neck. With a snap the string holding it together broke, and two dozen silver jingle bells bounced across the floor in a spontaneous tintinnabulation.

Konrad glared at the mess. “Great. Just great!”

“You broke my jingly!”

“Fuck your jingly! I am a dignified man, an officer of Esset, and I do not do ‘cute’!”

“You did the other day…”

“I didn’t mean I don’t ‘do’ cute, I mean – Shelley! You are being the opposite of helpful, here!” Konrad turned and gripped the other man’s shoulders. He stared intently into the foggy eyes of the Brit. His voice dropped to an urgent tone as he said, “Do me a favor, and call for reinforcements. We’re in trouble, and I don’t think we can hold out much longer. Just put a hold on the decorations and get help before anyone discovers our failure.”

Shelton now grasped Konrad by the shoulders and stared blearily into his eyes. “You mean…?”

Konrad nodded grimly. “Yes. I thought we’d be okay for a while, even running out of cookies. But now…we’re out of booze.”

Shelley screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

  
Konrad watched in dismay as Garrick hauled several heavy-duty cables into the room, followed by what looked like an arc-welding set. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Garrick?”

“This? This is easy. Trust me! We’ll have that tree lit up like a…well, um…like a Christmas tree in no time.”

“Right…” Konnor couldn’t bear to watch. He wandered toward the window again, where Shelley was lounging next to the record player. They could have requisitioned a CD changer with surround-sound, but there was something about an old-fashioned vinyl record that seemed to warm the heart.

Unless, of course, it was playing a song by the Chipmunks.

“Shelley, what the hell are you listening to?”

“All the little bugger wants is a hula hoop, isn’t that precious?” Shelley began to sing along, his boozy voice taking on the falsetto challenge with embarrassing ease.

Konnor resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. He’d already tried that, and it only served to muss his hair. “Don’t we have any good music?”

“Let’s see… Muppets… Chipmunks… Here’s one with dogs singing ‘Jingle Bells’… ‘Snoopy’s Christmas’…”

Several voices shouted all at once with such force that Konnor ducked for cover: “Snoopy’s Christmas! Yeah!”

Shelton applauded and changed records, and the room was filled with goodwill. The harried decorators all paused to sing along with the tale of Snoopy and the Red Baron and their fateful meeting one Christmas Eve. Even the most sworn of enemies may lay aside their feud on that one night, that holy night, and trust that they won’t get their asses shot off.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

Even Konnor, that Grinch, felt the power of the legendary pilots, and for a moment, all was right with the world.

Then Garrick gave a little yell and the power went out all through the facility.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

Konnor debated lighting some more candles, but he’d nearly scorched his gloves already. The room was steadily getting colder.

“We could go a-wassailing,” Shelley suggested perkily.

If they couldn’t get power restored soon, this would be a damn short party.

“We could –” Shelley tried again.

“I heard you the first time!” Konrad snarled. “What the hell is wassailing, anyway?”

“Well, traditionally it’s about making merry and singing Christmas carols out in the snow, but according to the Thesaurus it also means –”

“Shelley!” Mendez the telepath blurted with a snicker. “That’s hardly appropriate!”

Shelley giggled.

Konrad turned a glare on him so fierce that the tipsy Brit wilted. But only a little. “Don’t be such a humbug, Konnie, it’ll be fun! And it would get you out of this room before you kill Garrick.”

“I heard that.” Garrick looked up from where he was trying to peel melted green plastic wire casing off the wall.

“I don’t sing,” Konnor stated, hoping that was the end of the discussion.

“Oh, come off it! Have a drink, you’ll sing just fine!” Shelley looked around for a bottle, but there didn’t seem to be one. He shrugged and reached into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a bunch of airline-sized booze bottles all tied together like a string of chili peppers. “Ah, there you are! Here, try one of these.”

Konnor stared, amazed and a little appalled. “Shelley, I’m starting to think you have a real problem…”

“No, no! You just never can tell when it might come in handy.”

Shelton elbowed him in the ribs for emphasis. “You know, ‘handy’?”

“Oh, right…” Konnor found one little bottle that didn’t look too unpleasant and liberated it from its fellows. “Thanks, Shel. But I really don’t want to go outside. It’s cold, and I just saw some pedestrians wipe out on the ice.”

“We could tell scary ghost stories,” Mendez suggested. “Like in that song. Though, I’ve never understood the concept of ghost stories at Christmas time…”

Konrad raised his hands in a warding gesture. “No-ho-hooo,” he half-snickered. “I don’t think so. Last thing we need is to go scaring ourselves before the party even starts. Maybe later, around midnight or so?” He was joking, of course, but it suddenly occurred to him that just maybe his friends would take him seriously.

He planned to be nowhere near these two jokers at the stroke of twelve.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

  
Help arrived in stages.

First came the electricians, to the main panels and the central fuse boxes. When the lights came back on, everyone cheered – except Mendez, who had gotten rather sensitive to light over the past half hour. He cursed like a vampire and slunk into the bathroom.

Next came several more volunteers to help with the decorations. Three of them were handsome young telekinetics wearing tight red shirts and antler hats.

Again, everyone cheered.

And finally came the caterers. Konrad cheered very quietly in the hopes that Mendez wouldn’t notice just yet.

But as they parked their carts and began to unload them, Konnor stared in mute horror. “Where’s the food?”

“Nobody ordered any food,” the head of the operation reported. He produced a list and read from it: “Rum, spiced rum, dark rum…”

“What?!?” Konrad snatched the list from his hands and continued reading. “Jamaican rum, light rum, 151 extra-flammable rum, silver label rum…and a fifth of tequila?”

“We’re making fresh snow frozen margaritas!” Shelley announced, eliciting another round of cheering.

“No, we are not! Look, this is ridiculous! We’ve only invited about thirty people, this is way too much rum! And we need some more food, damn it!”

“But we supplied enough snacks for thirty,” the caterer said with a frown.

“Bring for thirty more, then!”

“So…sixty guests,” the guy said, jotting it down on his notepad.

“No!” Konrad shouted. “Thirty! Thirty hungry guests!”

“So you don’t need any more food.”

Konnor raised a hand for silence, grabbed the nearest bottle, and took a powerful swig, nearly choking himself in the process. He glared at the label: 151 extra-flammable. “We need more food. We need less rum. Do you understand me?”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?”


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

  
“Ah, good!” Konrad escorted the junior staff members to the crumb-laden snack tables. “Thank you for getting here so quickly!”

The half-dozen ersatz caterers set their trays on the table, arranging the sandwiches and sweets in a visually stunning array.

&gt;Mendez zeroed in on them like a cruise missile.

“Back, back I say!” Konrad physically blocked him, arms spread and teeth bared. “Leave some for the other guests, you pig!”

“Just one brownie?” Mendez pleaded, staring puppy-eyed at the food.

“Nein! Nyet! Go! Back! Down!” Konrad chased him toward Garrick, who flinched away with a startled yelp.

“Live wires here, you fools!”

Konnor and Mendez stopped in their tracks. “Which ones?” Konrad asked, foot poised above a dubious looking tangle of plastic and copper.

“Just back away, very slowly,” Garrick instructed, reaching for the strands with insulated rubber gloves. “I’ve just about got this figured out…”

Konrad teetered backward, regained his balance, and just managed to tackle Mendez on his way back to the buffet table. “I’ve just about had it with you!” the blond snarled, bodily pinning the other man to the floor.

Just then, Shelton Grant sashayed past, pausing to reach down and relieve Konnor of the bottle of extra-flammable rum. “Ah, there you are! I thought I’d misplaced you!”

Konnor growled and used his freed hand to pin both of Mendez’ wrists over his head. “Next year, _you’re_ in charge of the food! How does that sound?”

“Er, Konn?” Mendez mumbled, poking Konnor in the leg.

“What?” Konnor snarled.

“We’re under the mistletoe…”


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

  
“Oh, my! Am I interrupting?” Frau Beldin grinned down at them as Konnor struggled to get off the floor.

“No, not at all,” the blond grunted, planting his feet and levering himself upright.

Mendez lay on the ground in a giggling heap. Every time he looked at Konrad, he broke into a fresh fit of helpless laughter.

Konnor neatened his gloves and crisply flipped him off.

“When are your special guests arriving, Konrad? I’ve been looking forward to meeting them,” Frau Beldin said, graciously ignoring the rude gesture.

“At nine, but you know they’re always late.” He looked at his watch, which had slipped around on his wrist during the recent wrestling fiasco. Twenty minutes left. “Dear God…”

“Don’t worry, Konrad,” Frau Beldin stated, pausing to roll up her sleeves. “I’ll get these slackers moving.” She put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle.

Everyone flinched, and a crystal champagne flute shattered.

“Listen up!” she bellowed like a drill sergeant. “We have fifteen minutes to do an hour’s worth of work! I expect results! I will settle for nothing less than perfection! Do you hear me, you useless sacks of pheromones?”

Shelton gasped. “I think I’m in love!”

Konnor glared and threw a discarded reindeer hat at the Englishman. “Keep your horns on, you idiot. Whatever happened to ‘that old battleaxe’?”

The three red-shirted students stood at attention, a truly breathtaking sight, and as one shouted, “Jawohl, Fraulein!”

Beldin flushed and preened a little, then turned back toward Konrad. “Men. You just have to know what motivates them.”

Shelley fanned himself theatrically and mouthed the words, “Marry me!”


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

  
“Okay, I think the lights are a ‘go’,” Garrick stated, rising from his impromptu workshop and removing the welding mask from his head.

Konrad regarded his handiwork with alarm. Several massive strings of lights, spliced together in a hodgepodge of electrical tape, lay in a heap next to the tree. “Er, Garrick? Dear friend? Can you tell me, perhaps, why?”

“Why what, Konn?”

“Why didn’t you just use the plugs?”

“We only have six outlets in this room,” Garrick stated firmly. “And we have ten sets of lights.”

“No, no,” Konrad tried, speaking slowly as though to a very small child. “Why didn’t you just plug the ends together? See? They’re designed to hook up, just like that.”

Garrick blinked.

“Oh, lighten up, Konnie.” Shelton put an arm over Konrad’s shoulders, nearly toppling him over with his drunken momentum. “Just plug it in and get merry! It’s a party! Besides, Garrick is a certified electrician, right? Don’t worry so much, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“What the hell,” Konrad mumbled, waving a hand dismissively at the mess. “Thank you, Garrick. You still have those insulated gloves, right? Plug it in.” He then executed a quick pat-down search of Shelton Grant, confiscating a half-full flask from inside his coat.

“Hey, I was saving that!”

“Mine now. It’s the season of giving, right?” As Garrick searched for the business end of the lights, Konnor hastily unscrewed the cap and took a swig. He glanced at his friend burrowing through tangles of wires, and took another. Then he estimated the distance to the door (too close to those damn lights) and the window (three floors up, but not impossible).

With reassuring steadiness, a glow came from Garrick’s project, and the fuses held. Konrad turned to have a better look.

The lights were on! All thousand-plus of the little colorful buggers, and no smoke! No ominous popping sounds, no sputtering, just Christmas lights, all in one, huge, tangled, inseparable ball of green plastic wire…

Shelley spoke for everyone. “How are we going to get those on the tree?”


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

  
Garrick threw down his gloves and rounded on the language instructor. “Listen here, you unsober critic! I did this out of love, see? This was a labor of love, for the holiday, for Konn, for my frickin’ job! Okay? So don’t bust my chops over a minor detail like how to put them on a goddamn tree! You’re the interior decorator, _you_ figure it out!”

Konnor took another sip. Or two. In any case, he noticed that the flask was already getting to be perilously light.

He also noticed that his gloved fingertips seemed to be sticking to a fine layer of frost that hadn’t been there before. As he tried to parse this phenomenon, his bemused breath puffed out to hang in the air in a fine white cloud.

A chill descended on the conference room. Outside the wind rose to a shriek. Clouds raced across the moon.

In the distance, a dog howled.

Someone bumped the record player and the needle skipped to the blank spot at the end of the vinyl, hissing and scritching softly in a weird sort of counterpoint. Konrad glanced around, almost expecting to find the Ghost of Christmas Future hovering over the punch bowl.

Garrick’s embattled Christmas lights flickered and died, followed by the overheads.

The building shook as the wind roared. The windows rattled. A shutter banged against the wall, echoing through the chill night like a gunshot.

Suddenly, lightning flashed, once, twice – on the third stroke the door burst inward and the candles all went out.

Someone screamed.

In the unearthly gleam of unseasonable lightning, a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. It took a step, then another.

The door swung shut behind it as a low and raspy voice intoned, “Good evening…”


	12. Chapter 12

**11**

  
"_I_ didn't invite him!" Shelley replied, spilling punch on the carpet.

"Well, _I_ sure as hell didn't!" Konrad snarled, every now and then glancing over his shoulder with a paranoid twitch.

"Maybe he just…_knew_. You know he hates to be left out." Shelley refilled his cup and took a taste. He grimaced, produced another flask from his jacket pocket and proceeded to dump the contents into the bowl.

Konrad smacked himself on the face and kept his hand there, hiding him from the world.

Another hand landed on his shoulder moments before a gravelly whisper made its way to his ear. "Fetch me some of that punch –" The speaker paused to clear their throat; the voice rose in pitch a good two and a half octaves. "Fetch me some of that punch, would you please?"

Forcing himself to act calm, Konrad poured a cup and offered it to Frau Sheffield. "I hope you're feeling better," he said, though inwardly he cursed her entire family for the scare she'd just given him. Then he smiled, a nasty, Grinchy kind of smile. He had no idea what, exactly, Shelley had added to the punch; it should have an interesting effect combined with her cold medicine.

"No, but I'm sure this will turn the trick, as they say. Bottom's up!"

Konnor's smile slipped sideways a few notches at her choice of phrasing.

Over her shoulder, two familiar faces caught Konnor's attention. He hurried to intercept them before they got too involved in the festivities. "Ah, Herr Hansen! And dear Olaf! Haven't seen you in a while, how have you been?" As he spoke, he smoothly ushered them back toward the door. Hansen glanced longingly at the food moving steadily out of reach, but Olaf just followed along with a good-natured grin.

"Uh, sir? We just – that is," Hansen babbled, pointing at the other guests, then the tree, then the tables. "I was invited, damn it!"

"Yes, yes, and it's a good thing you came early," Konrad said, nodding. He opened the door and accompanied both men into the hallway. "I have an important job for you tonight."

"But I thought we were just here for the party!"

"Plans change, Hansen! Now listen closely, this is a very sensitive assignment…"


	13. Chapter 13

**12**

  
Hansen pouted, but Olaf leaned in to hear better.

“I’m expecting some very important guests tonight, they should be arriving any time now. I need doormen, and that would be you two.”

“But sir,” Hansen tried, “don’t doormen wait on the inside, you know, open the door and take people’s coats and such?”

Konrad shook his head. “No, no, I need you to keep an eye on things. A security detail, if you will. And that means, you wait on the outside, open the door, and _I’ll_ take their coats.”

“But –”

“Just stand there and screen the guests!”

“Don’t you mean, greet the guests, Herr General?” Olaf asked, wanting only to please.

“That too. But be sure they’re on the list! I don’t want any more weird surprises. My heart still hasn’t slowed back down after the last one.” Konnor began pacing, rubbing at his temples. “And now he’s inside, and I can’t make him leave.”

“You could just shoot him,” Olaf suggested.

“But that would ruin the mood! It’s Christmas, not Easter, you cretin! Just guard the damn door!” Konrad tried to slam the door as he went back inside, but the air-cushioned hinges thwarted him. He settled for a huffy stomp.

Hansen sighed. “Lovely. I work my ass off for that guy, and what do I get? Guard duty at his little mixer.”

“I got a tie.” Olaf held it out for his friend to admire. “It has a little battery in the back, and Snoopy’s doghouse lights up. See?”

“If he likes you so much,” Hansen snarled, “why are you out here with me?”

“You don’t mind if I go inside?”

“Hell yes, I mind!” Hansen growled. “This is ridiculous! See if I ever accept an invitation from Herr General again!”

“Well, now I understand something about the royalty and other high-society types,” Olaf said philosophically.

“Yeah, they’ll put you to work every damn time.”

Olaf stared at his friend, wide-eyed. “It’s not like that at all!”

“So what do you understand, Einstein?”

“If this is what happens when you’re early, it’s no wonder they’re always late…”


	14. Chapter 14

**13**

  
Konnor paused at the snack table to wolf down two small sandwiches and a handful of Pfeffernüsse. He desperately needed something to offset the rum.

He started to pour himself some punch, but the aroma rising from the bowl worried him. It smelled rather high octane. Just thinking about it made his head swim.

Over at the tree, Garrick had finally managed to separate a few of the strands, and a squad of half a dozen enthusiastic volunteers had draped the lights over the branches. There had been one nerve-wracking moment when some of the needles began to smolder, but Garrick fixed that with some electrical tape and half a chocolate bon-bon.

More alarming still, Herr Sonndheim was nowhere to be seen.

Konrad looked around, peeking under the tables and daring to pop the bathroom door open for a quick check.

It was as if the man had vanished into thin air.

“Who are you looking for, Kort?”

Konnor jumped. “Jesus Christ, do you have to do that?”

“Do what?” Sonndheim smiled, the effect reminding Konnor of a drunk and lecherous street-corner Santa.

“Never mind.” An idea occurred to Konnor, another wonderful, terrible, Grinchy idea. “Listen, how would you like to help with the decorations?” He thought this would be a fantastic way to keep him out in the open, where he couldn’t disappear so easily. Furthermore, he thought it would hack him off, to be given such a menial task, and maybe – just maybe, if the planets were in alignment – he’d leave.

But his reply chilled Konnor to the core.

Sonndheim’s smile grew wider and somehow snarkier. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	15. Chapter 15

**14**

  
Konrad leaned against the window again, vaguely guarding the record player. Some wiseass kept putting on that damn Chipmunk album, and if Konnor had to hear those squeaky voices one more time, he’d snap.

The tree almost looked like a proper Christmas Tannenbaum, with lights and shiny dangly things and fake snow.

Fake snow? He hadn’t bought any fake snow…

With a terrible sizzle and a pop, the melting ice hit the lights, and the record player ground to a pathetic halt. In the dark. Again.

A piercing bright halogen light skewered the darkness. Garrick aimed the lantern at the tree and announced, “It’s all right, nobody panic! I’ve got everything under control.”

But when the lights came back on, Sonndheim was nowhere to be seen.

Konrad picked his way through the assembly. None of his foreign guests had arrived yet, which, under the circumstances, was improbably good luck. He tracked down Mendez and called him aside.

“Have you seen Him lately?” Konnor asked, voice low.

Mendez gasped. “Voldemort?”

“No, you idiot! Herr Sonndheim.”

“Oh, _Him_ Him. Not since before the lights blew. Why?”

Konnor scowled. “I don’t know…” Something about the man just set his nerves on edge.

He approached Shelley, cautious of the man’s fragile hold on his punch cup. “Hey, Shel. Have you seen You-Know-Who lately?”

Shelley paled. His free hand rose to his throat. “Not – Him!”

“Yeah. Him. Where did He sneak off to?”

In a voice between a whisper and a croak Shelley asked, “Is He here?”

Konnor relieved him of his drink. “Well, He _was_ here, until Garrick blew the damn lights again!”

Shelley seemed to compose himself, then shouted, “We’re still loyal to you, Lord Voldemort! Please don’t hurt me…”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Konnor whirled around –

– and found himself face to face with You-Know-Who.

Sonndheim smiled, and to Shelley he murmured, “Good to know, Grant. I’ll keep that in mind…”


	16. Chapter 16

**15**

  
Twenty-one-hundred had come and gone, and still Konrad’s high-ranking guests had failed to show. The regulars were here, helping to tidy up the last of the decorations, but so far no sign of the others.

Hansen had snuck in three times now, stuffing his pockets with cookies and stollen – guess that made it stolen stollen, didn’t it? Konrad fought down a case of the giggles. He’d indulged in too much drink already, and if he lost it now he’d never regain his composure.

It didn’t help that Shelley was playing with the pickle again.

“Just stick it somewhere!” Garrick jeered, now trying to untangle another set of lights for the wall hangings.

“The slipping of the pickle takes precision, you lout! It can’t go just anyplace!”

Sonndheim’s disembodied voice rumbled, “I’ll show you how to slip the pickle…”

Shelley backed away from the tree.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Frau Sheffield snatched the pickle from Shelley’s fist and stormed over to the tree. She fidgeted about for a moment before turning toward Konrad. “Get that, would you dear? It’s for you.”

The phone rang. People turned to stare at it as though they’d never seen one before.

No one moved to answer it.

Konrad managed to catch the call before they gave up. “Hallo? Yes, this is he. Oh. Oh? Oh… Right, right. Can’t make it to the party? Thank God! No, of course not – I meant thank God you’re all right! What a shame you won’t be here. Hopefully you’ll be all shoveled out by New Year’s.” He hung up the phone and sagged visibly. The Austrian delegates were snowed in with the Russian royals; two-thirds of his guest list had just canceled.

Konnor made sure no one was watching before he gave a little victory salute and a muffled cry of “YES!”


	17. Chapter 17

**16**

  
_“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas…”_ The voice sang out low and gruffly resonant, overwhelming the chirpy voice on the novelty album with unmistakable masculine vigor.

_“…Don’t want a doll, no dinky tinker toy, I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy…”_

No one else spoke or breathed too loudly as Herr Sonndheim sang merrily to himself and put the last few ornaments on the tree. He went all the way around it, making sure everything was just so (and probably checking on that pickle one last time)…but he didn’t come out the other side. He seemed to have just disappeared around the back of the Christmas tree.

Where Konrad would have cared ten minutes ago, right now he merely hoped the creepy old bastard would stay gone. Or, if he turned up again, he wouldn’t sing anymore. That hippopotamus thing was just a little disturbing, especially coming from him.

Maybe Shelley could take him a-wassailing…

A soft, weird moaning caught his attention.

Frau Sheffield stood alone in the center of the room, her voice ululating like a banshee. She gazed unseeing at the ceiling, her eyes wide and dilated. In a hollow, echoing voice, she began to speak. “_The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight…the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight…before midnight…the servant…will set out…to rejoin…his master…_”

The assembled revelers gasped as one.

From some unseen vantage point, Sonndheim let out a low, ominous chuckle.

Shelley fainted.

Frau Sheffield seemed to shake herself awake. She took a deep breath…and grinned. “And the whole bloody series will be a best-seller worldwide, and spawn movies, and fan fiction, and strange perverted flash-animation sock puppets!”

Konrad snarled under his breath. “I’ll get her for this…”


	18. Chapter 18

**17**

  
“Is it over?” Shelley murmured, trying to get off the floor.

“Hardly,” Konrad muttered as he hauled Shelley to his feet.

The Englishman clutched at Konnor’s lapels. “I meant Him! Is it midnight?”

“He’s right over there. What’s the matter with you?”

Shelley peeked toward the tree. Barely visible through the branches was Herr Sonndheim. “What, is He hiding behind _Him_?”

Konnor scowled. “What the hell are you babbling about?”

“Him! You-Know-Who! You said He was over there, but all I see is, well, _Him_!”

“Get a grip on yourself, man! You asked me where He was, and I told you. If you can’t pull it together, maybe you should go home.”

“But, He’s coming! Before midnight!”

“I keep telling you, He’s right there!”

“Oh, I can’t face this sober!” Shelley staggered toward the refreshments, shakily scooped out what was left of the mega-spiked punch, and downed it.

Then he made a terrible face as though he’d been poisoned.

Before Konrad could move him or change his trajectory, Shelton Grant puked into the punch bowl. He clung to the delicate edges of the antique Austrian crystal and recycled his cheer with catlike ease. He spewed so vehemently that Konrad was tempted to time him…

When he was finally done, Shelley dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, clearly mourning the senseless waste of so much rum. Then he draped a corner of the tablecloth over the evidence and turned toward Konnor with a sheepish smile. “Whoo, blimey! That’s better! Nothing like a little whoops to clear the old pipes, eh?”

Konrad telekinetically floated the punch bowl toward the bathroom, hoping to hell that he didn’t either drop it or spill its on anyone in his path. He managed to get it dumped out and rinsed a little, but there wasn’t much he could do until morning. He sprayed some cinnamon air freshener on the soiled crystal and called it good.

As he returned to the party, the three handsome young telekinetics chased one another in a hormone-laden frenzy. One bumped into Konnor, sending him careening into the snack table – which promptly collapsed.


	19. Chapter 19

**18**

  
“What else could possibly go wrong?”

The door opened.

Herr Hansen cleared his throat and announced the newest arrivals with much pomp. “Freifrau von Affenberg, Herr General Kapec, and Herr Colonel Altmann, of Prague!”

Konrad ran to greet the delegates, nearly tripping over the extension cords as he hurried to the door. “Illustrious guests, I am so glad you could come to my humble party!”

The Freifrau produced an opera glass and proceeded to gaze about the room with haughty disdain. Her vast bosom rose and fell beneath a tiny furpiece that clung to her shoulder like a tick. Konnor wasn’t in the practice of noticing women’s bosoms, but in this case, it was the lady’s first and most indelible impression: put a Viking helmet on her head and call her Brunhilde, and when she sings we can all go home!

Then he realized that he wasn’t actually nose-to-nose with a fox stole – the lady had brought her ill-tempered Pomeranian, which now snarled merrily in Konnor’s face. Not missing a beat, he smiled warmly and said, “My, what a lovely little puppy! Would he like some egg-nog?”

“He’s a she,” the lady intoned with dire gravity.

“Ah, my mistake, I never was very good at that. May I take your coat, m’lady?”

Across the room, a quickly-revived Shelley began to sing, _“Rudi, the brown-nose –”_

“Could you excuse me for a moment?” Konnor growled toward his guests, then sprinted toward the singer who, for the record, had improvised several verses by this time.

He grabbed Shelley’s arm and hauled him around in a circle, making both of them dizzy. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! You’re wrecking everything!”

“Aw, Konnie, it’s okay,” Shelton mumbled happily. “We all love you! I love you!” He kissed Konnor sloppily on the cheek, then shouted to the room, “Don’t you all love Konnie?”

Three men he didn’t really know very well hollered, “We love you, Konnie!”

The Pomeranian barked shrilly.

Sonndheim leered and started to speak.

Konnor ducked out from under Shelley’s arm and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.


	20. Chapter 20

**19**

  
When he dared to open the door again, Konrad stared in astonishment at the transformation that had taken place in his absence.

The overhead lights had been turned out, replaced with a lovely glow from hundreds of tiny flickering lights that decorated the ceiling like stars. Candles glimmered docilely in wall sconces, and Christmas music played softly on the stereo.

The delegates from Prague were chatting amiably with the local teachers, and – miracle of miracles! – there were fresh cookies on the newly-fixed table.

Everything looked, well, perfect.

Konnor stumbled through the tableau in a state of shock. The ambiance was lovely, the people were behaving, and the booze hadn’t run out yet. He dared to smile.

Loud squelching sounds caught his attention.

Under the coat rack, Shelton Grant sat astride Frau Beldin’s lap, and they were making out with extreme prejudice. Tongues, lips, noses, everything above the neckline was involved, while their hands –!

Konrad slapped himself on the forehead and growled something about fag hags.

A large warm hand gripped him firmly on the, er, shoulder. “Lovely party, Kort.”

Konnor let out a little scream. “Oh! It’s you! When did you get here?”

“September, 1952,” Sonndheim replied. “Why?”

“No, I meant tonight.” Konnor looked around for an escape, found none.

_You yourself opened the door for me, over an hour ago,_” Sonndheim murmured in that voice like a cement mixer with issues.

Konnor blinked absently and murmured, “I myself opened the door for you, over an hour ago…”

“Must be some awfully good rum Herr Grant ordered tonight… Pity he’s been separated from it so very prematurely.”

The spell broke. “Premature my ass!” Konrad snarled, glaring toward the coat rack. All he could see of the rampant couple now was chair legs and tangled feet.

Sonndheim chuckled. Before Konrad could speak, Sonndheim reached into his trousers and pulled out…a Santa hat. “Well, it looks like it’s time for presents, now, doesn’t it?”


	21. Chapter 21

**20**

  
A rosy-cheeked Shelton Grant sidled up to Konnor with an apologetic grin. “Did someone say ‘presents’?”

Konrad eyed the pile of brightly wrapped parcels and the waiting hoard of underpaid Esset staff. Their numbers were roughly equal. With a Santa hat perched upon his grizzled hair, Sonndheim parked himself in between the two forces as a self-appointed referee.

“How come _he_ gets to be Santa?” Garrick growled.

Shelley gestured toward Konnor and stage-whispered, “Because _someone_ didn’t want to get his hair messy!”

One by one, Sonndheim read the names and, for once, this was a source of joy in the halls of Rosenkreuz.

But suddenly Sonndheim-Claus frowned and shook his head. In front of him sat a large box wrapped in Snow Babies gift paper. “Oh dear.” The frown morphed into a uniquely nasty expression, a sinister little smirk rather like a hangman pausing to enjoy a jam tart between drops. “This one is for Herr McAvoy.”

Konrad looked around the room, puzzled.

Sonndheim gestured for him to approach.

Konnor took a cautious step forward, then two more. He leaned down to hear.

Sonndheim murmured, “We seem to have had him shot last week.”

“Oh, _that_ Herr McAvoy!” Konrad regarded the orphaned present with dismay.

“Make it the pickle prize!” Garrick shouted.

“Yeah, make it the pickle prize!” everyone else chorused.

The Pomeranian yipped like a Tasered fox.

Konnor addressed the assembly. “Okay, you all know the rules! Who was the last person to touch the pickle?”

Sonndheim leered up at him.

Konrad swallowed nervously and gave a little laugh as he edged away from the man. “You can’t play then.”

But Sonndheim merely smiled, there under his Santa hat, and gestured benignly toward the tree.

The last thing Konnor heard was a chorus of voices all shouting, “Mine!” and then one brave voice hollering out, “TIMBER!!”


	22. Chapter 22

**21**

  
“What happened?”

“Mendez found the pickle,” Shelley told him as he freshened up the ice pack.

“No, no,” Konnor murmured, again as though speaking to a very small child, “I meant to the tree, Shel. What happened…to the tree?”

“Um, it fell over?”

“On top of me, did it?”

“Rather so, yes.”

Konnor sighed and sat up. He seemed to be wearing half the tree’s ornaments and a lavish coat of supple green needles. He tried to brush them off, but they seemed to have a static sort of affection for his clothing.

For the second time that night, he levered himself off the floor. This time, shiny ornaments cascaded down in a cacophony of tinkling. He sighed again. “Excuse me, I need to freshen up a bit…” Konnor turned and stumbled toward the bathroom.

The way was blocked by Sonndheim’s backside. Odd grunting sounds and little growls came from the other end at about floor level.

Konnor eased closer and took a very wary peek.

Sonndheim was wearing one of Garrick’s welding gloves and offering his arm to the Pomeranian as though the fluffy orange fart were an attack dog. And the Pom was obliging him in a feral display that would have terrified a large rat. It dangled from Sonndheim’s gloved wrist, snarling Pom death threats under its vile-smelling breath.

“Come on, you little bastard, go for the throat. That’s a good boy!”

Konrad changed his mind about the bathroom.

Garrick and the redshirts had managed to put the tree right again, though most of the ornaments and half the needles now lay scattered on the floor – or in Konnor’s hair. No one else seemed to have been caught in the avalanche, which was a blessing: there wasn’t enough booze left if they had to call in the medical staff.

Konnor found a wayward bottle of very clear rum and slumped onto the windowsill for a drink.

Mendez bounded over, carrying an obscenely large boom box. “Hey, Konn! Guess what I won! And it’s full of Christmas music!”

Konnor very gently set the bottle down on the sill, neatened his gloves, then punched him right in the nose.


	23. Chapter 23

**22**

  
“There, there,” Garrick crooned, “he didn’t mean it, Mendez.”

“There, there,” Shelley crooned, “you didn’t mean it, Konnie. Did you?”

“Tsk, tsk,” Sonndheim-Claus gloated, “fighting on Christmas Eve. For shame!”

The evening’s stress having burst its dam, Konnor babbled, “He just, the pickle, and the _tree_! And then, and I just – my _hair_! And, and…and if I have to listen to any more stupid Christmas songs I’ll –!”

Mendez started fiddling with his pickle prize. “Hey, it’s not all Christmas music after all,” he said. “It’s got a three-disc changer! AM/FM stereo, dual cassettes – what’s this?” He took out one of the pre-loaded tapes. “‘Rule the World with Esset or Die’? Damn, I’ve already got that one.” He thoughtfully removed the holiday disc, then switched on the CD player and let it run at random. Europop tunes filled the air

Meanwhile, Shelley offered Konrad the unopened box with his name on it. “Merry Christmas, Konnie.”

Konrad looked at the present, then at Shelley, then at the veritable demilitarized zone that used to be a conference room. In spite of its tumble, the tree still had some dignity about it, and the lights had stayed lit. Konnor offered a hopeful smile. If the tree could maintain a little of the Christmas spirit, so could he.

He unwrapped the present.

And stared.

“Shelley, I…”

“No, no, you don’t have to say anything.”

Konnor smiled at his friend.

“You _do_ prefer them extra-large, right? I wanted to make sure I got you the correct size.”

Konnor felt himself go red in the face. “Shut up, Shel.”


	24. Chapter 24

**23**

  
Across the room, Mendez had donned a lampshade and climbed onto the now-empty snack table and proceeded to cavort about like an over-medicated show goat.

Konnor sighed and regarded the bottle of rum in one hand and the now-closed gift box in the other. All in all, the party had been a disaster, but fortunately not one with a body count. That had happened last year, and what a mess _that_ had been!

Well, thank God for small miracles, as they say.

Just one tiny problem left to deal with. There was no way this party was going to end with a man wearing a lampshade. He smiled to himself as he staggered to his feet.

Konrad handed Shelley the rum and his present for safe-keeping – hopefully the man wouldn’t use either of them before he got back – then shouted, “Mendez, off the table! Now!”

Rather sheepishly, Mendez complied.

Konrad dragged the tablecloth to the floor, taking all the empty plates with it in a clatter. Then he leaped onto the bare table and kicked the RANDOM button on the boom box.

The disc changer engaged.

It spun.

It came to rest.

_“Mi-ya HIII! Mi-ya HOOO! Mi-ya HUUU! Mi-ya HA HA!”_

And Konrad, that uptight party host, began to dance.

But he didn’t just dance. Oh, no. That would never erase the horror of the evening from his guests’ memories.

Konnor gave them a performance to remember.

He kicked off his shoes, one at a time, aiming them over the crowd. Bouncing with the beat, he peeled off his socks and whirled them like nunchuks before flinging them to arc gracefully into the Christmas tree.

He began to unbutton his jacket…

Then his shirt…

The jacket sailed across the room to land in a tangle on the floor, and the crowd went wild! The three young telekinetics danced along with him, hauling their red t-shirts up over their heads and waving them like flags.

Konnor gyrated and bumped as though he had been born for the stage, tossing his clothes into the crowd until he wore only his gloves and his underwear.

Very flattering blue bikini underwear.

Shelley fainted.

Garrick scrambled for his wallet.

Freifrau Affenberg clutched a shoe to her bosom.

Sonndheim…took pictures.


	25. Chapter 25

**24**

  
A very pink-faced Konrad sighed happily and relaxed into the welcoming embrace. Who would have thought these folks would have been such great sports? And such fantastic tippers?

He counted the money again, sorting out the little slips of paper with phone numbers on them. Those he’d save for later.

“Hell of a party, Konn!” Garrick said with a grin. He collected his jacket and present and headed for the door.

“Same time next year?” Mendez suggested happily. “And I’ll handle the refreshments.”

Konnor managed to reclaim his present from Shelley before the man could make a clean getaway with it. The Brit smooched him on the cheek and said, “Merry Christmas, you outlaw you!” Then he stumbled off into the night, the fifth of tequila clutched tightly to his bosom.

In ones and twos, the guests made their way home, leaving only Konrad and…

“Merry Christmas, Kort.”

Konnor jumped off the comfortable lap and searched frantically for his clothes.

Sonndheim chuckled. “I don’t suppose you’ll need my help in forgetting all this, will you? Of course not.” He handed Konnor his trousers. _“You’ve been drinking the 151 all evening. You’ll forget just fine on your own.”_

Konrad struggled to get into his pants without bending over too far.

Sonndheim watched, smirking.

Just before Konnor got the fly zipped up, Sonndheim leaned over and tucked another bill into his waistband. Then he turned and strode to the door.

He paused at the threshold, donned his Santa hat, and smiled.

The clock struck twelve.

Then Herr Sonndheim exclaimed as he turned out the light, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all…a good night…”


	26. Chapter 26

**Epilogue – Christmas Day**

  
In a rather festive mood, Erich Sonndheim sang softly to himself. _“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake…”_ He watched his banks of video monitors as the staff of Rosenkreuz struggled to wake on Christmas morning. The sounds of hangovers filled the air. He reached over and switched off the audio from Grant’s apartment. That…was a little bit much.

Konrad still slumbered in the conference room, half-naked and with fir needles in his golden hair. Sonndheim gave the monitor an approving smile. It should be…interesting when he woke up, to say the least.

Then Erich turned his attention to the piles of photographs he’d just finished developing. He began inventorying his pictures from the staff Christmas party, separating them into two piles. One stack he designated “Naughty”, the other “Nice”.

_“He knows if you’ve been bad…or…good…”_ He paused, frowning at one particular photograph.

He turned it this way…

And that way…

Back again…

One eyebrow went up, causing the other to tilt at an alarming angle. “And sometimes he’s not too sure about it.”

He set that picture in its own stack.

Once he had sorted through his fresh collection of blackmail material, he reached for the phone.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Yes, the party was a complete success. I know, it’s a shame they couldn’t be there. What, _my_ recommendation? I’m deeply honored, Sir! I think that he did an outstanding job, very high-class. Yes, I think you should. Most definitely! You won’t be disappointed. Oh, he’ll be happy to. He’s never too busy to entertain the crowned heads of Esset.”

He hung up the phone, knowing full well that Konrad would kill him for he’d just done, if the poor fellow only knew. The man has an aversion to picnics.

Erich smiled to himself and settled down to wait for spring.

THE END

^_^


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